


The Perfect Wife - Eddie Gluskin/Cis male reader

by bonecandy



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Eddie Gluskin/male reader - Freeform, M/M, Misgendering, Outlast: Whistleblower, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonecandy/pseuds/bonecandy
Summary: Reader is a photographer and aspiring journalist hoping to gain his big break by exposing the horrors of Mount Massive Asylum, but he gets more than he bargained for when he becomes trapped in the asylum, and he's forced to run for his life from various threats in the asylum, not the least of which is the man referred to by other patients as "The Groom". When Eddie Gluskin captures the reader with plans to make him his wife, how will the reader survive Eddie's bloody operation and escape the asylum?
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Reader, Eddie Gluskin/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	The Perfect Wife - Eddie Gluskin/Cis male reader

**Author's Note:**

> I have been literally completely unable to find good Eddie Gluskin x Male Reader fanfics for some reason, they all seem to center around cis women, so I guess it’s time to take matters into my own hands. It’s pretty self-indulgent, but I hope you guys enjoy it! It’s centered around Eddie Gluskin, so obviously keep in mind all the trigger warnings that entails. (including but not limited to gore/violence, misgendering, noncon, obsessive behavior, surgery, and misportrayal of mental illness.) In this version, Waylon released his information directly to the news instead of emailing Miles Upshur, and he was placed in Witness Protection to prevent retaliation by the Murkoff Corporation.This story is written in first person, instead of the second person model used in some reader insert fics, so instead of it saying "You ran," it would say something more like "I ran."

Waylon Park was a good man. I know that much, at the least. He risked everything- his life, his family, his livelihood- to let people know what was going on at the Mount Massive Asylum. Unethical, horrible experiments of all kinds, performed on patients who were deprived of anything that might ease their pain or improve their mental health. Waylon was lucky… he managed to escape retaliation from the Murkoff corporation thanks to the witness protection program, but that awful place is still overrun by untreated, supposedly homicidal patients as the government prepares to launch an investigation into the happenings there. I’m not a journalist- not exactly. I always wanted to be, of course, but it’s hard to get anywhere in the journalism business without connections, so I’ve mostly been stuck doing grunt work for the local newspaper. It’s unfulfilling, to say the least… Instead of making change in the world or breaking big stories, I’m photographing the elementary school production of The Cat in the Hat. I feel like something is missing from my life, like I’m constantly running on half empty. I think maybe if I can break a big story, get my name out in the industry, being able to work on stories that feel truly important could help fill the gap.  


When I heard about the horrors at Mount Massive, I knew it would be my big break. Some people might think it sounds a little exploitative, planning on using a tragedy like that to break into the journalism business, but it’s not all about fame or fortune for me. I really do feel awful for the victims, the patients who were abused and treated like lab rats. I want to help them in any way I can, which means shining a light on what happened at Mount Massive Asylum… Waylon Park revealed the inhumane experiments to the public, but nobody knows yet why they were being performed. I think that’s what I hope to find out by coming to Mount Massive.  


The building looms in front of me, huge and intimidating, It looks dilapidated already, and it’s only been left to the patients for a week or so. Frankly it looks more like a prison complex than an actual mental health facility, with its barbed wire fences and its sprawling complex of buildings. I know it’s meant to be a hospital for the criminally insane, but still, something about it doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t know if I should go in, but I at least want to look around and see if I can get some good photographs through the windows. It’s a little creepy, knowing how many patients are running wild in there… I’m just hoping I won’t get spotted by anyone inside. I feel awful for the patients because of the experiments they were put through, but I’m not stupid enough to forget that Mount Massive was an asylum for the criminally insane. The employees who were evacuated from the asylum have told stories of carnage, of the patients turning on the employees and slaughtering them. The last thing I want is to end up like those ill-fated employees. I creep up to one of the windows, taking a few photos of the broken down rooms I can see through the glass. The asylum is in ruins already, and it’s clear the patients have taken reign of it since all the employees were evacuated. There are still debates going on in court about whether it would be ethical or legal to send a team of soldiers into the asylum to ‘put down’ the patients, considering they haven’t been sentenced to death for their crimes.  


At first I don’t think there’s much to see through the windows except broken furniture, but as I climb the scaffolding to higher levels of the asylum, I begin to see dead bodies through the windows of the building. I don’t want to document the carnage, the sight of it makes me sick to my stomach, but I snap photos anyway. Sometimes journalism means documenting things you wish you didn’t even have to see yourself. As I’m peeking through the window of what seems to be an office, I spot something on one of the desks. Is that a file…? The world “Confidential” is stamped in large red letters across the smooth manila folder. Despite my better judgement, my curiosity about the contents of the folder gets the best of me. I let my camera hang by its strap around my neck, reaching down and tugging at the window jamb. It sticks in the frame, and for a moment I worry I won’t be able to get it open, but with a little more force it slides up, and I clamber through the open window. “I won’t stay long,” I tell myself internally. “Just long enough to read the file.”  


I creep across the room, trying to be silent as I reach out, opening the file on the desk. The first page is a patient profile titled “Gluskin, Eddie.” The picture is remarkably handsome, a mugshot of a man with a sharp jaw and serious eyes. The patient chart says he’s 46, but he manages to look good anyways, better than anyone ought to look at 46. I flip through the other pages, skimming the titles. Experiment logs, medical jargon… I don’t think I have time to read all these documents, not if I want to get out before I’m spotted. I lift my camera, snapping pictures of each page to read later. I’ve just managed to reach the last page when the sound of the office door slamming open makes me jump, my head whipping to look at the source of the sound.  


A huge shadow casts itself across the outdated carpet floor, and when I look up to see who the shadow belongs to, a massive man in a patient’s jumpsuit looms in the doorway. He looks so warped he’s barely recognizable as a human at first glance. He looks more like the sort of monster you would see in a horror movie, some sort of nuclear apocalypse where the only survivors have mutated beyond recognition. Is this what they’re doing to the patients at Mount Massive? It feels like my heart drops into my stomach as he towers over me, a strange, twisted sort of smile on his face. I don’t know what he wants to do to me, but whatever it is, it can’t be good, at least judging by the headless corpse laying limp in the corner of the office. He moves his massive body to block the open window I came through, my only exit to the outside world, so I have no choice but to run the other way- further into the asylum.  


I’m not sure how long the man gives chase. It may only be minutes, for all I know, but it feels like it could be forever, sprinting through the decrepit halls of the asylum, unsure if the footsteps pounding in my ears are his or my own, or if maybe it isn’t even footsteps I’m hearing, but my own heart slamming against my ribcage. I’m not even sure where I’m going, or where I came from. In the rush of adrenaline I lose track of which turns I take, which rooms I pass… there’s no way I’ll be able to find my way back to the window I came through, even if the man does give up chasing me. As I run, it begins to dawn on me that I might have made a fatal mistake entering the asylum… His footsteps are still behind me, drawing closer and closer. A quick glance behind me tells me he’s still in hot pursuit, even as I vault a broken desk sprawled across the hall… I’m not very fast, and my endurance is even worse than my speed. I’m beginning to think getting caught is inevitable, when I spot a pair of bookshelves ahead, just barely far enough apart for me to squeeze between. I slip through the gap, my breath heaving, and I realize as I reach the other side that the gap is too narrow for the massive man who’s been chasing me to pass through. I’m safe- for now. But with that man still on the other side, I couldn’t go back the way I came even if I did remember which way I’d run.  


There’s no other option but to continue on and find another exit, as impossible as it seems. I stick to a walk for now as I travel through the darkened halls, lit dimly by the moon’s light shining through the windows and by the emergency lights overhead. The windows are few and far between, and looking through them I realize even if I could open them it would be a sheer thirty foot drop to the ground. At the very least I would break bones, and at worst… I gulp at the thought, turning away from the window and continuing on. Suffice it to say, jumping is out of the question. I’ll have to find another way out, whether it be a window on one of the lower stories, or maybe a back door on the main floor. I take a deep breath, trying to keep my composure as I move through the asylum. I have an awful feeling I might not get out of here, at least not alive. This was a terrible decision… but I can’t dwell on that now. Wallowing in regret will only make this take longer. Maybe I’ll get lucky and stumble across an emergency exit. They couldn’t possibly only have one exit for a complex this massive, right?  


I manage to make it down to the first floor, slipping nearly undetected through most of the patient cells to stop at the top of the nearly unusable stairs. These should lead down to the main floor… I brace myself to begin the precarious climb down, but as I step forward, all the lights go out at once. I brace myself on the stair railing, nearly falling from surprise at the sudden darkness. Shit. I swallow hard, creeping down the stairs step by step, feeling for solid ground with each foot before putting my weight on it. Getting out of here is going to be impossible with the power out. I have a hard enough time navigating this place when all the lights are on, much less in complete darkness. I pick up my camera from around my neck, flicking through the settings on the tiny LED screen. Is there a night vision mode…? Relief floods me when I spot one at the bottom of the settings. It will help some, but… I don’t have a lot of battery left on my camera. I’m not sure how much longer I have left on it, but I know for certain it won’t last until I can find another exit and escape the asylum. I consider my options, peeking through the lens of the camera and looking around me at the stairwell. I could open the door and exit onto the first floor, try to use my camera to navigate the darkness, or… I could go down. I could use the little battery life left on my camera to find the breaker and flip the power back on.  


As much as I want to just head out onto the first level and take my chances with the darkness, I know what I have to do. Time to put on my big boy panties and do it. I head down the flight of stairs that leads to the basement, pulling open the door and stepping into the dark. The basement is flooded, filled with filthy water up to my knee. I gag a little at the smell, and I have a strong suspicion that dirt isn’t the only thing making this water brown, but I can’t let it stop me. I can see the faulty breaker on a platform just ten feet away, in the middle of the basement. My feet slosh in the water, the mud at the bottom sucking at the soles of my shoes as I make my way through the repulsive muck, climbing up onto the wooden platform and flipping the breaker switch back to on. The basement is suddenly flooded with light, and relief floods me along with it. It’s going to be okay! I’m gonna get out of here!  


Not.  


My relief is short-lived, interrupted with a large dose of reality when I spot someone across the basement, a wiry-looking man with much of his face stretched and twisted, picked at until it forms gaping, infected sores. His hair is scraggly and greasy, half balding, but his eyes are intact, and his voice seems to be as well, though the timbre is strange and unsettling. It sounds creaky, like the sound of an old door opening, and it cracks when he speaks. “A bride.” He grins coldly, looking at me the way most people would look at a car as they’re assessing its worth. “For the man below.” He’s been sitting on a raised wooden platform across the basement, his bony limbs tucked in close to his body, but as he speaks he stands, his long limbs unfolding in a way I’m sure must be unnatural, though I can’t quite place why. He stands still for a second, analyzing me, then reaches behind his back, pulling a polished black nightstick from the back of his waistband.  


I’m confused by his words, but I have a feeling they can’t mean anything good. I’m sure as hell not a ‘bride’, and I don’t think I want to know who ‘the man below’ is. That goes doubly if ‘the man below’ happens to be him. God knows the last thing I want is to be a ‘bride’ to a man who looks like Gollum and Severus Snape had an unholy love child. I turn to run, but the water slows my steps, and the wiry bastard is quick, quicker than I expected him to be. I’m a photographer, not an athlete, so I’m already not very quick, but just about now the mud at the bottom of the basement feels like it may as well be quicksand. The water slows me down enough that he manages to catch me before I even get close to the basement door I came from, and he yanks me back by the shirt, bringing down the fierce black nightstick, which I realize he must have stolen from one of the guards. Somehow, I doubt the guard survived the scuffle. The club smashes into my head with an impact that feels like it makes my teeth rattle in my skull, and before I can even ponder what he’s going to do to me I’m out cold, collapsing into the filthy pool of water below in a heap of awkward limbs.  


I’m not sure how long I'm out… When I wake up I’m in an entirely different area, with no clue how I got there. My memory is hazy to say the least, and it feels like my brain was stuffed with cotton. I think I came to my senses a little bit as I was being transported down the hallways, but only enough to realize I was being moved, dragged by the ankles, before my head collided with the corner of an old palette and I passed back out. Now I’m in a completely different area, maybe even a completely different building. My mouth is dry as a desert and my head is pounding, spots dotting my vision. I feel frantically for the camera around my neck, but it’s not there. The ragged remains of the strap are a few feet away from me, and with a little bit of searching I manage to find the camera cast aside against the wall, the lens shattered and missing shards of glass. I stand shakily, my legs feeling heavy underneath me. I need to find a way out of here… Behind me is a strange maze, narrow winding halls made of pallets and old archive shelves. I don’t think I’ll be able to find my way through it in the dark. In front of me is a set of stairs leading down into a basement. It doesn’t seem like I have anywhere else to go… maybe there will be a service entrance I can escape through down there. I shake my head a little to clear it, then head down the rickety wooden stairs, steadying myself on the railing.  


I stop at the foot of the stairs, glancing around nervously. I hope there are no other patients here… it seems unlikely to me that the man who brought me here would just drag me off to a different location and then leave, so there must be a reason he brought me here. I move further into the basement, past a makeshift wall of white sheets, and my hand claps over my mouth at the scene before me. I feel nauseous just looking at it, and if I had any food in my stomach I would probably be throwing it up now. A headless man lays on what looks to be a birthing table, the corpse’s legs lifted in the stirrups to expose a massive slice cut into his pelvis. The body is missing its genitals, a fact that makes my dick hurt just to think about, and placed inside the giant cavity left by the cut between his legs is a human head protruding from inside his mangled body. It seems like a sick, grotesque parody of birth, down to the ‘nurse’ standing next to the body. I turn away, pressing my hand over my mouth, retching a little. Oh god, what the fuck did I just see?! I swallow down the bile creeping up my throat, and I do my best to avoid looking at it again as I creep further into the basement to search for an exit. I need to get out of here right now, before I meet the same fate as the poor bastard on that table. I hardly even remember to check if I’m alone down here as I pause at a door to test the doorknob.  


Abruptly, a face appears in the narrow glass window of the door, startling me enough that I jolt a little. The face is warped like the rest of the people I’ve seen here, but not as severely as the other patients I’ve come across, even partially obscured by the coating of grime on the window. There’s scarring on a good half of the man’s face, and below his other eye as well, but the most striking thing about his face is actually his eyes, turned pitch black except for the thin rings of blue that make up his irises. Despite the scarring and the change in his eye color, I recognize that face from the patient profile I saw when I entered the asylum. Eddie Gluskin. He was very handsome before whatever these monsters did to him… somehow he manages to hold onto that handsome look even with the scars of countless experiments on his face, and just now his lips are turned up in a grin, strangely genuine and warm in comparison to the ones I’ve seen from other patients. He looks happy to see me, and for reasons I can’t comprehend, that unsettles me more than the cold, cruel looks I’ve seen from the others. His voice is a warm baritone, surprisingly smooth and even pleasant as he exclaims aloud. “Darling!”  


Confusion flashes through me at the word. Darling? I’m certain I don’t know him personally, even though I recognize his face from the patient file. This must be who the man in the breaker room was referring to when he talked about ‘the man below.’ I back away from the door quickly, my eyes darting around, searching frantically for somewhere else to go. He must be responsible for the mutilated body left on the table! Shit, I need to get out of here! I turn sharply, running for the door on the opposite side of the basement. I don’t know where it goes, but I know I can’t stay here. Eddie calls out from behind, sounding almost puzzled as he opens the door, quickly taking pursuit. “Darling, why are you running from me?” His voice is tense, like the fact that I’m running from him distresses him somehow, and my heart gives a strange twinge, a tiny but incomprehensible feeling of guilt at his sadness. Why should I care what he feels?  


I ignore my own unreasonable emotions as surely as I ignore his calls for me to stop running, flinging open the door as soon as I reach it and dashing through. I’m not very fast, I know that much, so I can’t help but wonder how Eddie hasn’t caught me yet. It’s like he’s holding back, going slower than he could be. The whole situation is too puzzling to dwell on for long, not when he’s slowly gaining on me even at his tempered pace. My eyes flash around at the hallway before me as I enter it, and I realize it must be some sort of service hall. There are no doors whatsoever, just a dented electrical panel and an open elevator shaft that lays ten or so feet in front of me, with a shoddy-looking ladder against its back wall. Can I make the jump..? Will the ladder hold my weight? It doesn’t matter, I have to try. I dash forward, using the last scraps of my stamina to get a running start. In one huge burst of motion I leap for the ladder, my hands groping for the cold metal rungs- and miss.  


I must fall a good ten feet, landing hard on the top of the elevator below me, a scream ripping from my throat as a sick crunching sound echoes through the empty elevator shaft. Bolts of pain dart up my leg like lightning, bringing back the nausea from before with almost twice the intensity. The wind is knocked out of my chest, and I gasp for breath, my lungs tight and my heart racing. I’m panicking, honestly. Even if I could find a way to get out of this elevator shaft, I couldn’t walk, I know it. One look at my leg can tell me that much- it’s bent at an odd angle in the middle, my skin bulging as bone thrusts against skin, not quite protruding but creating a large lump under my flesh. The skin around it is already turning a violent shade of purple. In the entrance to the elevator shaft above, Eddie stands looking down at my figure, curled up on the roof of the elevator below him. He sounds strangely frightened, his voice filled with concern as he looks down at me. “Darling! Oh darling, you’re hurt! Why would you do such a thing, jumping so recklessly?! Could it be… you thought I was going to hurt you?” He sounds almost angry at the mere suggestion, displeased with the thought that I might be afraid of him. “You must be in awful pain, and without me…” His voice softens some when he thinks about my injury, and I can’t help but wonder why he seems to genuinely care about my injury.  


I find myself trembling with fear and pain as he reaches out, grabbing hold of one of the thick metal cables that supports the elevator, pulling down so that the pulley heaves the elevator up. To my horror the elevator begins to move, the sharp screech of metal on metal assaulting my ears as the elevator begins to move. With each jerking motion of the elevator my dread builds, the filthy concrete walls moving around me as the elevator lifts. The jolting motion makes me feel like I might be sick, and my heart hammers faster seeing his looming form grow closer and closer with each jerk of the thick metal cable. Hand over hand he drags the elevator up until the top is level with the floor, until my broken body is prone at his feet. He drops to his knees, disturbingly tender as he brushes back my hair to look at my face. I’ve gone clammy and ashen-faced, my eyes wide with shock and fear as I try to sit up and scramble away, only to flinch and go still again as a fresh wave of pain bolts up my leg. “Darling,” He murmurs, “You scared me. I could have lost you…” It’s unsettling to hear him sound so worried… the man who caused such horrifying mutilation, sounding genuinely distraught at the thought of my breaking a leg. He must have some powerful delusions to be so worried about me when he has such violent intentions.  


I look up at him, still panting slightly, my voice shaky as I speak to him for the first time since I saw his face in the window. “What do you want from me..?” I whisper. I feel helpless, unable to even stand on my own. No 911 call could help me here, even if there was a usable phone, and there’s no way I can escape this place now that I can’t even walk, much less run. I’m at his mercy, and he obviously knows it, because he’s in no hurry to move me back to the main basement yet. Instead he sits more firmly on the ground, pulling my upper half into his lap so that my head rests on one of his thighs. At closer look, the ragged suit he’s wearing appears to me made out of a patchwork of other fabrics, hand-sewn together into a suit vest. One of his broad, calloused hands comes to rest on my cheek as he looks down at me, a look of adoration on his face that tugs on my heartstrings in a way I would rather not think about. I’ve seen what this man is capable of, I shouldn’t be feeling this way, no matter how carefully he’s treating me, no matter how infatuated he seems when he looks at me. He doesn’t know me at all, he shouldn’t be looking at me that way in the first place. I’m beginning to think his twisted delusions of love are getting to me, driving me insane in much the same way as him… I don’t have romantic feelings for this monster. The only thing I want is to run as far away from him and this hellish asylum as soon as I possibly can.  


“I don’t want to hurt you, darling. I want us to be together!” He smiles warmly, the sort of expression that would be reassuring if I didn’t know he was the one who set up that awful display. “I want you to be my bride, my perfect wife.” He continues, as though it isn’t completely insane to want me to be his ‘wife’ seeing as I’m a man. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect… I just know you’re going to be the one to last. I’ve looked so long for a girl like you.” He smiles like this is all perfectly normal, like I’m just a normal girl and he’s just a normal man who has known me forever. The issue is, I am not a girl, and he’s a deeply disturbed man who hasn’t even known me for an hour.  


“I’m not a woman, and I don’t want to be your bride.” I shake my head sharply, trying to sit up and pull away from him, but he just pushes me back down into his lap with a firm hand on my shoulder, his voice more firm and less wistful now.  


“You’re delirious, darling, you just took a major injury so you’re probably in shock. You don’t know what you’re talking about, and you really shouldn’t be moving, you’ll hurt yourself worse.” His face is serious now, looking down at me with a sense of authority, as though he fully believes he knows best here. In a way, I’m sure he does. I’m sure he must fully believe I’m a beautiful girl who’s meant to be his bride, who’s meant to be his wife. Whoever was supposed to treat his delusions must have done a very poor job at it even before the asylum was overtaken by the patients. I try to sit up again, to do anything to get away from him, but he grows irritable at my disobedience, a look of frustration on his face as he digs into the pocket of his suit vest, pulling out a filthy rag that looks damp, soaked in a liquid with fumes strong enough to smell even with the rag held a foot or so away. “I should probably have done this as soon as you started being unreasonable, darling, but I really wanted to keep you awake… you’ll feel better after you rest a little.”  


Eddie presses the rag to my nose and mouth with a firm hand, strong enough not to be phased even as I thrash and try to shove his arm away. I hold my breath as long as possible, but I’m still out of breath from the impact of falling down the elevator shaft, and soon enough I have to take a breath, a desperate gasp that fills my lungs with heavy gas that stings going down my nose and throat. In seconds my vision is darkening, my mind sinking into a deep, inescapable oblivion that I can’t fight off. I’m out cold, limp in his lap and completely defenseless for the second time since I arrived here. I’m beginning to think I’m just easy to knock out…  


When I wake up a severe, blindingly white light is shining in my face, and I blink hazily, disoriented by the intensity of the light. “Huh…?” I murmur, looking around as my vision starts to clear and I remember what happened. After I saw the disgusting parody of a birth scene in Eddie’s basement I ran from him, and when he chased me I made the stupid decision of trying to make the jump across the elevator shaft… He cranked me back up into reach after I broke my leg, and when I struggled he knocked me out with a chemical-soaked rag. As I become more aware of my surroundings I realize my limbs are strapped down with thick leather straps, my body kept prone on its back with my legs lifted by stirrups. I’m almost completely bare, stripped of all clothing except for my underwear and my left leg, which looks straighter than it did when I broke it. It’s been set back in place with all the care of a concerned lover, bound tightly to a board with old rags in a makeshift splint designed to keep it straight as it heals.  


Standing in front of the operating table, between my legs, Eddie himself smiles that warm, comforting smile even as he wipes off rusty old surgical tools with a filthy rag. “Darling, you’re awake! I fixed up your leg while you were asleep, that way it will heal right! I wouldn’t want my perfect wife to be injured forever.” He hums. “I was hoping you would stay asleep for this part too, it always hurts so much, and I hate seeing you in pain… but there are some pains a woman has to tolerate for the sake of her family, aren’t there?” I don’t understand what he means, and he must be able to tell, because he goes on to explain. “You aren’t ready to bear a family yet, darling, there are a few… changes that need to be made.” He rests a hand on my thigh, his palm warm and calloused, as he speaks. “Nothing too awful… I simply need to remove the more vulgar parts, create an incision there, a soft place to lay my seed. It’s something I need you to put up with, for me.”  


I pale at the thought, struggling against my restraints. “Wait, you can’t do that! It will kill me!” The bleeding alone would be bad enough, not to mention the fact that having him try to do anything with the incision would probably result in a whole lot more damage. How many men has he killed this way, trying to create himself a ‘wife?’ I know I can’t escape him, especially not tied down like this… I need to try to reason with him, somehow, if what I’m going to do could even be called reasoning. My mother would be steaming if she could hear what I’m about to say…  
“Darling..” I pull out his pet name, hoping it will get his attention. “Don’t you love me the way I am?” The words sound sickly sweet on my lips, false to my own ears, but I pray he’s deep enough in his delusions not to notice.  


Clearly, Eddie is taken off guard by the sudden sweetness, the agreeable tone of my words. Nobody has ever spoken to him like that before… any previous victims probably spent the whole time screaming and begging for mercy in a way he’s used to ignoring, not appealing to him as a ‘wife.’ I pray it will be enough to save me from the wickedly sharp tools laying on a tray between my legs. “W-well darling, of course I do, but-” He swallows. “But we need to start a family together, and sometimes that hurts a bit, but it’s important.”  


I try not to betray my fear, though my heart is hammering, my skin shining slightly with sweat under the light of the surgical lamp. “But we could start a family, Eddie. We could start it even without changing me. You told me I was perfect, the perfect wife.. If I’m perfect for you, why would you want to change me, darling? Besides, you know women aren’t as strong as men… I don’t think I could withstand the operation when I was already hurt so recently. I’m just not as strong as you are, that’s why i need you to protect me.” Saying sexist things like that leaves a foul taste in my mouth, but it isn’t as though I mean them- I’m desperate, saying anything I can think of to an old-fashioned man to get him not to slice my dick off and kill me in the process.  


Eddie seems conflicted… nothing like this has ever happened before. On one hand, the parts I have are so vulgar to him, unladylike to say the least… on the other hand, he adores me, and he’s sure I’m right about the low chances of survival. After what I’ve been through, I probably wouldn’t make it through the operation. Those with weak health rarely make it, even under the best of conditions. He doesn’t want to lose me, not when he’s just gotten me, not when he adores me so much. Of any of the other women he wanted as brides, he considers me by far the best. He takes a deep breath, picking up the scalpel. I pale and squirm, but his voice is gentle. “Shhh, shh, don’t panic, darling. I’m not going to begin the operation just yet… I’m simply going to look, see if I can manage to work with what you have.” He assures, lifting the edge of my underwear at the hip with his thumb, puncturing the fabric with his blade and slicing it all the way up to the waistband, repeating the process on the other side so that my underwear falls away from my body at the hips.  


Eddie pulls the underwear down at the front to reveal my bare form, studying it with an intensity that makes me squirm in embarrassment. I didn’t count on him looking at me like this, studying my naked body with those icy black eyes. It makes my heart rate quicken, color rushing to my cheeks, and he smiles at the way I flush. “I know, darling, the groom isn’t supposed to see this before the wedding night, but I swear I’ll make an honest woman of you.” He chuckles a little as he examines my body, his hands smoothing over me, squeezing my chest lightly, running down to my hips and nudging my legs further apart. His probing eyes make me feel things I shouldn’t feel, things I swear I must be crazy for feeling… relief fills me when he looks away from my body and back up to my face, grinning warmly. “Darling, I think you’re right. I told you you were perfect, and I would never lie to you… we can make a family this way, I can learn to love your body as it is, even if it is a bit… unusual. If you’re my wife I need to love all of you, even the less pleasant, vulgar bits.”  


It worked. It worked! For a moment I expected him to examine me, look me up and down and decide to do it anyways. But my strategy worked! I know it isn’t a promise of escape, not yet, but I’m thrilled just to be alive after what was about to happen. Eddie grabs an old, threadbare blanket from somewhere under the operating table, unbinding my wrists and ankles and lifting my legs from the stirrups, letting them down carefully so he won’t jolt my injured leg. “There you are, darling.. Here, I’m sure you would rather cover up, you’re not used to being so exposed.” He laughs, warm and casual, as if he wasn’t about to kill me, and tucks the blanket around me. “I need to bring you your wedding dress, don’t I? You need to get ready!” He looks delighted, sweeping off into the next room to find the dress he’s speaking of. I take the chance to attempt to stand, my legs unsteady. Every step sends a fresh jolt of pain up my leg, but it’s almost tolerable if I tune it out… I take a deep breath, trying to stay silent as I take one step, then two, on the splinted leg, taking breaks after every five or so steps to catch my breath. I need to get out of here before he comes back…  


...But he’s not gone nearly long enough. I’m only halfway across the room when he sweeps back in, a bundle of white fabric in his arms. It looks like a wedding dress, that’s for sure… not a good wedding dress, but a white dress. When Eddie sees me standing ten feet from the table, eyes watering from the pain, worry and disapproval cross his handsome face. “Darling, what are you doing trying to walk?” Eddie chastises, setting the dress down on the operating table and coming over promptly to scoop me up in his arms, treating me like I weigh nothing even though I’m certain I must be heavy. “I know you want to follow and stay with me, but you can’t walk much yet, you’ll hurt yourself worse! Save your energy for your walk down the aisle.” He smiles warmly, absolutely clueless to my escape attempt, or maybe just too delusional to put the pieces together. Either way it doesn’t matter. His delusions don’t matter, and his feelings don’t either- neither do mine, at least not the strange, fluttery feelings in my gut when he picks me up and carries me. These feelings are ridiculous, crazy really… he was planning on killing me, I shouldn’t be acting like some love-struck schoolboy.  


Eddie sets me back down on the operating table, clearly elated as he picks the bundle of fabric back up, holding it up in the air spread out so that I can see it properly. The bundle of fabric seems to be a crudely-made wedding gown, stitched together from an old white sheet similar to the ones that made up the wall in the front entrance to the basement, hand-sewn in the same manner his suit vest was made. “Do you like it darling?” He asks, seeming proud of himself for his work on the garment. If I don’t want to anger him or alert him to my deception, there’s only one thing to say.  
“Of course I do, darling, it’s beautiful.” I force a smile, as sweet as I can manage when I feel about ready to burst into tears. Eddie hands the dress to me gingerly, seeming eager as he watches me.  


“You should put it on! The wedding will be soon, and I know you aren’t meant to see the bride before the wedding but I just have to know what it looks like on you. I’ll even close my eyes while you change, see?” His voice is bright as he closes his eyes and steps back, hands up, a little grin on his face. It’s almost sweet, if you can forget how many people he’s killed. He makes such a show of being ‘gentlemanly’ to me… he seems like the type to insist on opening any door I walk through. As he waits for the ok to open his eyes he looks like a kid on christmas, waiting to unwrap a gift. I pull the dress on carefully, trying not to break any of the stitches. It looks kind of ridiculous on me, at least in my opinion, but I would never say so. I’ll have to play along with this until someone comes to save me… it will be weeks until I can walk again, so I’m beginning to lose any hope of escaping on my own.  


“Alright, it’s on.” I pipe up nervously, more than a little embarrassed to be wearing a girl’s dress. “You can open your eyes.” Acting like I’m alright with this, like I want to marry him, is the only way I can stay safe until help comes. I just need to remember that I don’t really want to be with him. I don’t want to end up with Stockholm syndrome or something like that, too far gone to remember I should be scared of him… I stand from the operating table, balancing carefully on my good leg so that he can see the whole dress. When he opens his eyes, he’s silent for a moment, seemingly in awe.  


“Oh darling, you look perfect!” He coos, reaching out and pressing his palms to my face, that expression of adoration back on his face, the expression that tugs at my heartstrings and makes it so easy to forget what he almost did to me. “I knew you would be the perfect bride.” He smiles softly, drawing me in for a hug, resting his chin on top of my head so that I'm almost cocooned by his arms. They feel warm around me, and much better than they should. I almost feel like I’m drifting away, or at least, any scraps of sense I may have had are. I relax against him, resting my head on his chest. It’s all a show, I tell myself sharply. I’m faking it. Entertaining his delusions until I can escape to safety, where I’ll never think about him again. But it feels nice, doesn’t it…? I don’t think anyone has ever really held me like that.  


Eddie scoops me up all at once in his arms, carrying me bridal-style, held against his chest for safety as he begins to walk. “The wedding is starting soon, darling, we shouldn’t be late.” He says cheerfully. “I can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle.” He takes me into another part of his basement, one with a makeshift altar set up at the front, empty seats lined up all around without any witnesses to fill them. The pews are empty, with moth-eaten holes dotting the red velvet cushions and torn-up bible pages strewn across the floor. He sets me down at the end of the aisle, then moves toward the altar, standing on one side of it. A radio off to the side plays music, faint and old fashioned, slightly grainy. I take a deep breath, starting to walk down the threadbare, hole-pocked red aisle rug. I can’t believe I’m doing this… it seems insane, pretending to be this man’s “wife”, but it’s the only way I’ll get out of this alive. Surely someone will call for help when I don’t come home for a long time, right? Even if my family doesn’t talk to me much or check up on how I’m doing, surely they’ll notice if I’ve gone missing… this is just for a little while, a few days at most.  


I walk down the aisle one step at a time, ignoring the pain that shoots up my leg, gritting my teeth into a smile. I can do this. Finally, after what feels like forever I arrive at the altar. That look is in his eyes again, that look of absolute adoration. Absently, I realize that I don’t think anyone has ever really looked at me that way before, like I was the only important thing in the world, like nothing else mattered if they didn’t have me. It feels good to be wanted so intensely, even if the reason he wants me so badly is sick and delusional. I know it may not be healthy, wanting someone to love you this much, but it makes me feel like for once in my life someone really cares if I’m around. When I come to a stop in front of him at the altar, Eddie takes my hands into his, leaning in closer, looking all but lovesick as he smiles. “I swear to stay with you forever, to take care of you and protect you, to love you exactly as you are. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, I will be there to provide and care for you. Till death do us part, I will protect you.” He must have been planning these vows for a long time, because he seems to be checking his memory every so often, making sure he got it right. At first, I’m not quite sure what to say, but eventually I find the words to speak.  


“I swear to stay by your side and support you through any hardships, comfort you through any loss. I promise to be yours forever, and to take care of you in turn, too. I promise that for better or for worse, in sickness or in health, I’ll be with you through it all, I’ll always have your back. Till death do us part.” My voice is soft and a little uncertain, though it should be easy for him to dismiss that as nerves... He’s so elated at the idea that someone might genuinely want to be with him that it never occurs to him I might be lying. He squeezes my hands gently, smiling with a look of love so true and intense, I forget for a moment that this is a pantomime of a marriage, an act to preserve my safety until people arrive to rescue me.  
“Do you take me as your lawfully wedded husband?” He asks, his voice soft but serious. It’s pretty clear he’s never gotten this far before, at least not with someone still living. He’s waiting for the answer in suspense, though really there’s only one answer I can give him.  


“I do.” I respond, looking up at him. He really is handsome… the scars don’t take away from his attractiveness at all, and in fact, I don’t think I could imagine him looking any other way anymore. “Do you take me to be your lawfully wedded wife?’ I ask, pushing aside the fleeting thought that this is not a legally binding marriage and I am not a wife.  


“I do.” Eddie nods, smiling like he’s never been happier in his life. He digs into the pocket of his suit vest, producing a worn out diamond wedding ring that looks to be speckled with blood. I don’t think I want to know where it came from… He takes my hand, lifting it and pressing a kiss to the back before slipping the ring onto my finger. Then he reaches into the pocket again, passing me a thicker golden wedding band, equally as worn and blood-speckled. “This one’s for you to put on me.” He grins. I wonder how long he’s been preparing for a wedding that, until I came along, would never take place with a live ‘bride.’ I take his big, rough hand in mine, squeezing it a little. In the moment like this I forget how I got here, what he’s done. All I think about is the way his adoring smile makes my heart beat faster in my chest, and the wat his hands felt gentle in my hair as he cared for me after I broke my leg. Even without knowing it, I’m done for… I won’t realize it, not for a good while yet, but somehow I’ve managed to fall in love with Eddie Gluskin.  


I slip the ring onto his finger, and he grins brightly, drawing me close. “You may kiss the bride.” He intones, more to himself than to anyone who might be watching, or even to me. He leans down, pressing his lips to mine in a gesture that feels shockingly soft despite everything. I expected his lips to be rough or to have a strange texture from the scars, but they’re soft, and they feel good on mine. He scoops me up in his arms again, carrying me down from the altar and eagerly toward the door to the other room. I don’t think I really considered this far ahead, to be honest… I was just trying to survive, then I got caught up in the moment. I never considered that after the wedding comes the marriage bed.  


Eddie flings the door open to what looks like a shabby makeshift bedroom, kicking it shut behind us on the way in. Two hospital beds have been put together to make a double bed, an old crate set up next to it as a nightstand. He lays me down on the bed, a new sort of fire sparking in his eyes as he unbuttons his vest, then his shirt, casting them aside. His chest is scarred in the same way as his face, the skin warped and raw-looking, but it somehow doesn’t take away from his attractiveness at all. I don’t have much time to dwell on his good looks though, because it’s only now beginning to dawn on me that he has every intention of consummating this marriage, right here and now. I gulp, sitting up a little. “Hold on, I-”  


He quiets me with a kiss, pressing me back down onto the makeshift bed, hiking the skirts of the wedding dress up around my waist to expose me. Since he cut my underwear off on the operating table before, I’m completely bare underneath, except for wound dressings. He looks down at me, a look of awe and excitement on his face as a bulge begins to form in his pants, his hardness pressing against the fabric and straining against it. “Shhh, it’s okay darling. It will hurt, and I know that’s scary, but I’ll take care of you. It will only hurt the first time…” Somehow, with no lube in sight, I doubt that, but he leaves me no room to struggle, one arm at either side of me to trap me. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, expecting the pain of an unprepared, unlubricated entry, but it doesn’t come. Instead I feel the warmth of breath, and my legs being lifted to rest on his shoulders. “This will make it easier, since your body can’t do this part naturally.” He grins, and if I wasn’t mistaken I’d think he’s enjoying the flustered embarrassment written across my face as my eyes widen.  


“Wait! I’m-” But I don’t get any farther in my argument before I feel his tongue, warm and wet, running over my entrance. A gasp escapes me, my face flaming red. On instinct my thighs close, but with him already down there the most they do is press against the sides of his head, and I can hear a quiet laugh, like he’s trying to hide his amusement. Encouraged by how flustered I’ve become, he begins to lick more thoroughly, teasing at my hole, wetting it with his mouth. I can’t silence the sounds escaping me, the little gasps and whimpers as he teases me. I’ve never felt like this before, like I could burst at any moment, like every touch is amplified. Just as I’m right at the edge of climax, my legs shaking with pleasure I know I shouldn’t feel, he pulls away, licking his lips a little. “You sound beautiful, darling.” His voice is husky, his breath coming a little faster as he shifts my legs off his shoulders so that they’re settled on either side of him. “This will hurt, but I promise to be gentle with you.” He assures, unzipping the dress pants he wears and pushing them down below his hips, along with his underwear.  


I’m nervous for the pain, but by this point I’ve given up protest. I can barely even remember why I was objecting before- though frankly, the fact that he’s a murderer is a pretty good reason. Now, in the heat of pleasure, I can’t think about anything but wanting more, wanting to feel him inside me. I don’t think anyone has ever set me on fire this way, made me so desperate for more. Somehow, without me even noticing, he seems to have crept right under my skin. He presses the tip of his cock against my hole, barely teasing with the pressure as he rests his hands on my hips. “Try to relax, darling, it will be easier that way.” He murmurs, one hand lifting to stroke my hair as gently as it did when he had me in his lap at the elevator. I nod, taking a deep breath and letting it out, letting my body relax as much as possible.  


When Eddie pushes in the pain is intense- he’s bigger than I expected, so being suddenly stretched so far beyond my usual limits draws a cry of pain from me that I didn’t even intend to let out. “Wait, wait, don’t move yet.” I interject quickly, before he can interrupt me with any distractions. To my relief he nods, pausing and giving me time to adjust to his size, waiting as patiently as possible. He waits until, still trembling slightly from the shock, I give a little nod to keep going. It doesn’t hurt as much once I’ve had a chance to adjust, and once he begins to move I’m surprised to find it even starts to feel good. He picks up a rhythm as he thrusts, moving slowly at first, then faster, his cock pressing up against my prostate with every motion and drawing a short, startled moan from my lips. I wasn’t expecting it to feel so good, but the more he moves, the less I notice the pain and the more I find myself clinging close to him, practically begging for more.  


I feel like I could stay this way forever, our bodies meshed together in harmony. It makes me forget where I am, how I got here… all I can focus on is him, and how it feels to be with him. It’s not long before I’m growing closer and closer to climax, gasping for breath. “Eddie, I’m gonna-!” I gasp, my hands gripping at his shoulders as he drives into me.  


“It’s okay, darling, you can finish.” He assures, using one hand to push the dress up further on my body so I won’t make a mess of it. He barely manages to get it out of the way before I’m climaxing hard, making a mess of my stomach as I cum. As the sensation washes over me I tighten around him, shuddering with pleasure, and I can feel it as he pushes deep inside me and stops his movement, finishing deep inside, filling me with his seed. He pulls out slowly afterward, putting himself back into his underwear and zipping his pants back up, using a rag of a handkerchief to clean me off a little. He seems a little unsettled by the sticky mess, but not enough to say anything about it. It’s simply something he’ll have to get used to if he doesn’t want to change his perfect wife.  


I’m exhausted, honestly… I feel like I could pass out right here and now, but it seems that’s not going to happen. I’m just settling in, tucked close to him in the bed, when the sound of thundering footsteps and voices comes from overhead. The sound of doors being broken down and guns being fired warns me that ‘help’ has arrived- only, I’m not sure I want their help anymore. However it may have started, Eddie makes me happy, makes me feel loved… I don’t think that’s something I’m ready to give up. I sit up sharply, turning to him. “Eddie, we have to go.” I say quickly, scrambling to try to stand, I’m unsteady, though, and putting weight on my splinted leg still hurts like hell. “I don’t think they’re going to let you out of this alive if they see you.” I swallow hard at the thought.  


Eddie stands, nodding quickly. “We need to go.” He agrees, but he has no intention of letting me try to walk, much less run, on such a badly injured leg. He heads for the door that leads to the elevator shaft, and in one smooth motion steps onto the top of the elevator. The soldiers are already on their way into the basement, which means the upper floors should be empty.  
“Floor three.” I remember suddenly, as if by some sort of miracle. “I got in on floor three, through a window in an office. If we go there it might still be open.” I try my hardest to remember specifically where I came from, but I can’t remember most of the chase. “I squeezed through a pair of bookcases when I was running away from someone..”  


Eddie nods, holding me closer. “It’s going to be okay, darling.” He reassures, keeping one arm wound around me for support as the other reaches up for the steel cable of the elevator, gripping it and pulling hard. Each yank is a struggle, forcing the creaky elevator up by hand, but the stairs would be too dangerous. He drags the elevator up out of the basement, then to the first floor, the second- His muscles strain against his shirt, and eventually he has to set me down and use both hands, but through some miracle, or maybe the force of adrenaline, he manages to crank the rickety elevator all the way up to the third floor with the both of us on top of it. The third floor is mostly cleared out, but I can hear footsteps above. We must have just barely missed them… Eddie scoops me up again, exhausted but determined. When he said he vowed to protect me through anything, he clearly meant it. My eyes flash around at the hallway surrounding us, searching desperately for familiar landmarks.  


Finally my eyes land on a window- not the window we need, not the open window I made my escape through, but one of the windows I considered jumping from when I first arrived. “Keep going this way, we’re going the right way.” I keep my voice low, terrified that if someone hears, we may *both* be dead. It would probably be a just end, at least for Eddie… all the people he killed in the process of trying to find a bride, they would say he deserves it. But somehow, despite knowing about what he’s done, I care about him too much to let him go. In this moment of reflection, of quiet amid the chaos, I realize with a sense of surprise and clarity that I love him. Somehow, despite everything, I love him, which is all the more reason we need to get out of here.  


I point ahead with a feeling of relief when I see the bookcases, standing steadfast and tall. “There, those are the ones I passed through.” I say quickly. “The office should be close.” I cling to him tightly, my heart hammering. I hear the footsteps of the soldiers coming down the stairs. Are they going to sweep the area again??  


Eddie seems to have a moment of recognition, and an exhausted, relieved smile crosses his face. “I know where we are. I used to be brought up here to see the therapist, before the collapse.” He begins to walk faster, renewed with a burst of energy that seems to come from thin air.  
I pause for a second- there’s something I should remember, something that will help us… “Your file!” I exclaim, my eyes widening. “I saw a file on the desk which is why I came inside, and it turned out to be your file. I think the room I came in through was your therapist’s office!” In my excitement i entirely forget to be quiet, and a burst of radio chatter warns us that he isn't the only one who heard me. He moves faster, at a run now as he makes his way to the office that used to house his therapist. With a sense of relief that’s truly palpable, Eddie turns into the open door of the office, and there it is- the window I came in through, standing wide open, a cold breeze brushing my skin from outside.  


Eddie doesn’t hesitate to climb out the window onto the scaffolding below, still gripping me tight, He pauses once he gets a solid footing. “Can you hold on tight with your arms?” He asks, and I nod. The climbing will require both his arms, so I’ll need to hold on myself. He transfers me onto his back carefully and I wrap my arms tight around his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist as best as they can. It hurts my broken leg, but pain is better than death, and we’re so close to freedom that I’m not giving up now. I don’t know where we’ll go next, or what we’ll do, but I know I don’t want to leave him. I want to stay with him for as long as he’ll have me.  


Eddie climbs down the scaffolding as quickly as he can without slipping, though there are some close calls, moments that make my heart jump into my throat and my arms wrap even tighter around his shoulders. It feels like an eternity before we reach the ground, and when his feet touch solid pavement I feel almost ready to cry from relief. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath this whole time, and I can finally breathe again. “We made it.” I gasp, looking around at the snowy woods, at the moon shining silver in the sky.  


“We made it.” He grins, pulling me gingerly off his back and holding me close to his chest again.  


“And where do we go now…?”  


“Anywhere, as long as we’re together.” 

-Epilogue-

I’m not sure how long I’ve been away from the rest of the world, and to be honest it doesn’t really matter much to me, not anymore. The only news I’ve had of the world outside this little cabin is a few newspapers from the grocery store, on the rare occasion I’ve had to go. After the Mount Massive Asylum was cleared by soldiers, Eddie and I were presumed dead. Nobody looked for us… my obituary ran in the paper, and all my epitaph read was “He was an honest man.” I didn’t miss the real world, didn’t really miss the family I left behind. I had never realized it before, but meeting Eddie for the first time, seeing the way he looked at me like I was the moon and sun and all the stars… it was the first time I had ever felt truly loved. We live off the grid now, in a little cabin up in the mountains, and Eddie hunts deer and elk to put food on the table. It lets out the violent urges he always struggled with, and it lets him keep a little more of an even head. He still hasn’t really figured out that I’m not a woman, but I’m okay with playing the part of the wife if it means I can stay here with him.  


Sometimes I still wonder what life would have been like if I had turned around, if I had never come into the asylum in the first place and opened that manila folder, seen his face and read his name… I don’t think I would have been nearly as happy as I am now. I would have been stuck in some dead end job at the local newspaper, taking snapshots of the school spelling bees and always feeling like something was missing. Before I met Eddie, I thought that maybe my career was what was missing- maybe if I could climb the ranks, get more important pieces, I would feel like my life was fulfilling and right. I realize now that isn’t true. Photography is still one of my favorite hobbies- Eddie found a polaroid camera for me one night and brought it home as an anniversary gift. I don’t ask where it came from, I’m just grateful to have it. It keeps my hobbies alive, and it gives me something to do while Eddie is out hunting and foraging. But I realize now that as nice as photography is and as happy as it made me, it could never fill the gap in my life that cried out for love, for someone to look at me and see the world in my eyes. Life isn’t always perfect- the winters are cold and hard, and we still have to hide from the rest of the world most of the time, in case someone recognizes us, but… well, if it means feeling like this, feeling like I’m being held by him even when he’s away, then I’m happy to stick around and be a perfect wife.


End file.
